


Carry On

by laconicarcadia



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Support, Gen, Mental Illness, Self-Indulgent, anxiety attack, anxiety recovery, depressive state, emotional chats, i guess, i guess? this time michael feels normal after, i would tag it as muke but nothing romantic is implied, kind of, luke is just a really good friend, michael is nonverbal in this, this is when they have the LA house, when they made all those keeks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laconicarcadia/pseuds/laconicarcadia
Summary: Luke stepped into the room and let the door shut with a click behind him. Michael turned his head to look at him, everything feeling muffled and dull like he was underwater."Are you okay?" Luke asked, stepping closer.Or, whenever everything falls apart, Luke is there for Michael.





	1. It Won’t Be long (Won’t Be Long, Won’t Be Long)

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a long time since i've posted anything lol but i've been wanting to recently because i love writing and i'm bad at doing anything about it so i have to start somewhere so here's like the shortest thing i've ever written i think but i actually feel like posting this so? anyway don't expect too much because i wrote this in like an hour and i kind of halfheartedly proofread it but not really i just really want to post something and i have an urge to post this so
> 
> i've been having a hard time and i always feel like. michael understands so i wrote about him
> 
> but anyway most of the description is crap bc i couldn't figure out how to describe luke as i was imagining him so warm and comforting and good like a little glow for michael to feel better with but it's like the same four words recycled so i'm sorry
> 
> anyway that was a lot i hope you enjoy or at least don't hate it and the title is from invisible!  
> EDIT: title is now from carry on bc once i sat on it for a little while i realized that fit how i felt about the story much better. if i don't wuss out like always, keep an eye on this story. more might be coming :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael lay in bed.
> 
> Or, Luke is there for Michael when he starts to break down.

Michael lay in bed.

He could hear the others moving around outside of his room, Calum and Ashton laughing and joking together, hanging out, and watching something on the TV. Maybe they were playing a game. He could hear Luke, too, walking around the living room and the hallway and his room, singing sometimes but other times all Michael could hear were his footsteps.

Michael lay in bed.

It was twelve in the morning, and he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. His stomach growled ever so often- he hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch yet. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t make himself move. He didn’t feel like eating anyway. He'd woken up from a bad sleep at four in the morning. He stared at his ceiling. The others wouldn’t check on him. They wanted to let him sleep and relax while they were on break.

Luke walked past his door again, his soft footsteps fading in and out and then Michael was alone again.

Michael felt a tear slip down his cheek. He didn't know why he felt like this. Like... everything was wrong and bad but he didn't know why and he couldn't _do_ anything to make himself feel better. He would feel like he was faking it if he felt better, anyway. There was no winning, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

His phone lay next to him on the nightstand, and he thought about grabbing it for the twentieth time. He thought about texting someone to come hang out with him and watch a movie or just to tell someone he was up so they'd come bother him, at least get him out of this void he was stuck in. Michael didn't-

His door creaked open. 

Michael didn't move, kept his eye line to the ceiling.

"Michael?" Luke's voice filtered out into the room like a wave, slowly washing through the room until it hit the walls and filled all the corners. "You're up."

They both sat still for a moment. Luke stepped into the room and let the door shut with a click behind him. Michael turned his head to look at Luke, everything feeling muffled and dull like he was underwater.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, stepping closer. His hair was soft and messy, not styled for the lazy day. His tshirt was worn and black and he was wearing grey sweats that didn’t look like his. His eyes were big and blue and comforting. Luke came to the edge of the bed. His movements were slow but steady, like syrup dripping from a spoon.

"Mikey?"

Michael felt his lip wobble. His eyes stung as new tears formed. He blinked and let them fall down his face, joining the singular track on his cheek from before.

"Are you crying?" Luke asked, not sounding like he was going to tease Michael or like he was uncomfortable. Michael stared at him still.

Carefully, Luke climbed into bed with Michael. Michael, who had been laying in the middle of the bed for hours, didn’t move. There wasn’t enough room for Luke on the side of the bed.

"Scoot over," Luke said gently, and pushed at Michael's shoulder. With Luke's help, he moved a few inches over. His body felt weird from the hours of disuse. Luke curled up around him, facing him and staring at Michael with a familiar and gentle gaze.

Michael stared back, the cagey feeling in his chest settling a little. He knew Luke. Luke was his friend. Luke loved him and he loved Luke and Luke was here for him now, he wasn’t alone and stuck in his bed and unable to move or do anything.

Carefully, Luke reached out and stroked Michael's hair from his face and pet over it after.

"You're okay," Luke said, not quite a statement but just something that was _said_. "You're okay."

Michael's eyes stung again. Luke curled in close and put his face into Michael's neck as he began to weep quietly.

"I love you," Luke said, hand still cradling Michael's head. Michael took a shaky breath and leaned his forehead against Luke's.


	2. You Know It's Gonna Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael turned his face into his mattress and held back the whine crawling up his throat. He'd come to his room at nine after breakfast, maybe to take a quick nap, but then something had just... happened. And here he was, two hours later, staring at the inside of his sheet.
> 
> “Hey, it’s okay,” Luke said, his voice warm and soft. He sounds like when those firefighters on TV talk to the traumatized kids that were just in a fire or something like that.
> 
> Or, this time, Luke knows what to do a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT guess who's back!! so i didn't originally plan on making this chaptered but then a few days after i published the first part i wrote a third and then i wrote this part a few days ago so yeet!! also. i wasn't depressed when i wrote this part so idk if it will match the feel of the other two or have a different feel but. cheers to not being depressed
> 
> also with this one i kinda tapped into when i can move a little when i'm feeling anxious but also michael's still a little stiff which is, again, how i get. i dunno this whole fic is just me projecting onto michael but can't stop me now because i'll be damned if i give up now when i've been pretty good about sticking to this idea
> 
> not betaed, so, sorry

“Michael?” Luke’s voice filtered through Michael’s door, muffled. Michael curled into himself tighter where he was hidden under his blanket. His phone lay unused beside his elbow. “You haven’t come out in a few hours so I just wanted to check everything was okay,” Luke continued. Michael bit his lip and tried not to feel bad about that. It’d been a week since his last breakdown and already he was becoming a burden like he feared. Luke was being caring and careful, and of course Michael was grateful for that, but he still felt like that shouldn’t have to be Luke’s job. He’s an _adult_ for Christ’s sake he should be able to function on his own.

The door creaked open. “Mike? You in there?”

He turned his face into his mattress and held back the whine crawling up his throat. Obviously Luke had been cautious for good reason. He’d come to his room at nine after breakfast, maybe to take a quick nap, but then something had just... happened. And here he was, two hours later, staring at the inside of his sheet.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luke said, his voice warm and soft. He sounds like when those firefighters on TV talk to the traumatized kids that were just in a fire or something like that. Luke definitely knew something up was now. He listened to his bandmate’s footsteps and wondered what he thought when he saw Michael, older than him and supposedly tougher, curled up under his blankets like a two year old. “I know,” Michael wanted to say back to Luke. But he couldn’t lie to himself. He watched the shadow fall over himself and felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked quick to hold back the tears that burned hot on his eyes. “I’m gonna come in, okay?” Luke said, not really asking. He crawled into bed behind Michael and lifted up the blankets that way so that Michael’s face wouldn’t be exposed. Michael wondered how Luke knew he would prefer that. And then Luke was pressed against his back and his hand was warm and comforting on Michael’s side.

“Hi,” Luke whispered. “I’m gonna lay here with you, if that’s okay.” Okay, Michael thought. They sat quietly for a little bit. Michael felt bad about it, but Luke being there beat back the awful dark and curling feeling in his chest. Michael took a breath, a little deeper than the ones before, and thought about how he could feel Luke’s steady breaths against his neck. His eyes shift over to his phone, a few inches from his head. One of his hands is crushed underneath his head, but the other rests next to his phone. Suddenly, he worries about the people that may have been trying to contact him and he didn’t answer. Distressed, he pushes out his free hand and knocks his phone to the floor. It hits the hardwood with a clatter.

Luke’s hand starts to rub his side gently, up and down from his hip to the bottom of his ribs. “You’re okay,” Luke says again. He takes in a slow, steady breath. “I’m tired. This is nice. To lay here with you, I mean,” Luke clarifies. His voice is soft and a little breathy with how he’s whispering. Michael feels a little better. Maybe he’s helping Luke, too, he thinks. Michael shifts a bit in Luke’s hold, pushing his head back so that he can feel Luke’s nose brush his hair. Luke squeezes his side and ceases the previous movements. They’re quiet for another few minutes. Then Luke hums quietly in his ear. “Almost fell asleep,” He laughs, a docile little thing. Michael edges his foot back and brushes it against Luke’s calf. His friend nuzzles into his hair. He hums again.

“Love you,” He says, a little slur to his voice like he’s just too comfortable to focus on the words entirely. Michael likes that he made Luke feel like that. “I’m gonna take off the blanket, okay?” Luke says after a pause. “So that I don’t drift off again.” Michael takes a deep breath. He feels calm. Luke slowly edges the blanket off of the both of them, but Michael doesn’t really feel upset about it at all. The room isn’t bright, as his blinds are drawn and the lights are off, so it’s really just a shift from the overwhelming dark blue to a soft pastel pallet. Luke presses his hand into Michael’s stomach and Michael can feel his smile against his scalp. “There,” Luke says into the quiet morning. “All better.”

Michael doesn’t feel so bad anymore.

But then, of course, it comes creeping back. He’s guilty that he felt better so fast. Was he really even sad if it went away that quickly? He’s a burden. And a fake. He starts to sink back into it. The monster in his chest rises back up, taking a hold of the tendril of guilt and morphing it back into the terrible feeling that Luke had worked to get him out of.

“Can I ask how you feel?” Luke’s voice is warm behind his ear, and it should be comforting. It should be comforting.

Michael sits for a long time. He doesn’t want to talk. He _can’t_. But he loves Luke and he wants to answer him and he deserves to know how he feels, but he- he doesn’t-

“That’s okay, too,” Luke soothes after a moment of silence. “You don’t have to-”

“I don’t feel good,” Michael says, voice wavering. Just like that, tears come to his eyes and fall over his cheeks. He holds in a whimper and shoves his face back into his mattress. Luke knows he’s crying. He must.

“Okay, you’re okay,” Luke quickly attempts to calm him, running a careful hand up and down his side again. “That’s okay too. You don’t have to feel good.”

The tears come easier now. Michael can’t tell why. He bites his lip to stop it from wobbling and lets his tears wet the sheet beneath him. Luke is quiet for another long moment, just rubbing his side and holding him tight. He wonders what Luke is thinking. He doesn’t have to wonder long.

“I’m going to put a movie on the TV, okay?”

Okay, Michael thinks.

“How about…” Luke trails off, still by Michael’s side. “Spider-Man? With Andrew Garfield? I’ll skip to the good parts,” Luke offers. Michael wants to cry, he does a little, with happiness. Luke knows him really well. He’s so thankful for his best friend. Even with all of the good that Luke has does for him, though, he still feels… not good. His chest is heavy. He feels bad that he still feels this way, even though Luke has been helping. Luke shifts behind him and Michael hears him grab the remote and turn on the TV. Slowly, Michael shifts onto his back. Luke is still looking at the TV. Michael doesn’t have it in himself to wipe the tears off his face, but Luke doesn’t have tears on his face. He looks calm and happy as he smiles at the screen. I love you, Michael thinks, Thank you. The feeling in his chest starts to climb up again. This time, Michael pushes it back. He doesn't want to cry. He wants to watch Spider-Man with Luke.

Luke glances back at him and smiles. His hair is floppy, unquiffed; he looks fifteen again. Luke scoots back against the headboard so he can watch the movie and places his hand on Michael’s head. Michel can see the top half of the TV screen from here. Luke already has it set to the scene with the car robbery. 

“This part is so funny,” Luke says, and pets down Michael’s hair. Michael agrees. It’s one of his favorite parts, and Luke knows that. Knows that this is where he thinks the movie starts to really reach its potential.

They get all the way to the scene when the lizard is free on the streets, Luke throwing in comments from time to time, before Michael scoots up to lean on the headboard beside him. His arms feel weird and heavy when he lifts them. He sees Luke smile out of the corner of his eye, and he smiles too. He carefully reaches for Luke’s hand to hold. Luke has pushed him away in the past. But he doesn't now. He curls his hand in Michael’s, movements slow and soft, and they sit for a long moment.

“This is my favorite part,” Michael says, voice scratchy. He shakes a little, worried how Luke will react to him speaking. Luke hums. Peter is crouched among a circle of cops.

“I like it too,” Luke says. They settle into silence again. Michael doesn’t know why he was worried. Once Peter is swinging on the cranes, Luke sighs, “I don’t like the end, though. Can we turn it off before it gets sad?”

Michael wonders if Luke is doing that for him. He leans his head against Luke’s shoulder. He swallows and licks his lips before speaking. His mouth and throat feel dry from disuse. “Yeah, you can turn it off. Wait ‘til they’re on the side of the building, though. There’s some good action.”

“Hell yeah there is,” Luke laughs. Michael laughs with him. The scene comes and Luke clicks off the movie. “Wanna watch something else?”

Michael thinks for a moment. “No,” He says. “That’s okay.”

“Alright,” Luke smiles at him, shifting so that he’s facing him more head-on. “Thanks for watching it with me.”

Michael looks away, a little embarrassed. “Yeah,” He mumbles. Luke is quiet for a moment. And then,

“Cuddle?”

Michael laughs, louder than he has in awhile, and shakes his head fondly. He curls into Luke’s side, Luke’s arm thrown around his shoulder. “Mm,” He hums, “You’re warm.”

They huddle together in comfortable silence for a long while.

“Mikey?” Luke asks, voice all low and soft.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you some stuff?”

Michael chews at his lip, anxiety brewing in his stomach. “Okay,” He relents. Luke shifts so that he can look Michael in the eye. He looks hesitant, a little nervous.

“What can I…” Luke bites at his lip ring. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable,” He says quickly, and then, “What can I do better to help you? When you feel like this?”

Michael reels for a second. That’s not what he was expecting- he was thinking Luke was about to ask what was wrong with him or why he always had to be such a burden, not this… thoughtful inquiry about his feelings.

“Oh,” He says quietly. Luke rubs Michael’s shoulder. “Um, you do pretty well. Thank you.” Michael looks away, embarrassed.

“So, so,” Luke stutters, not out of anxiety, but he looks rather out of his element. He doesn’t want to make Michael uncomfortable, and he doesn’t know how to word what he has to say. “When I ask questions, even when I don’t expect a response, is that alright?”

“That’s perfect,” Michael nods, turning his face into Luke’s face so that he doesn’t have to look at his well-meaning gaze while he feels all weird and squirmy. This is hard to talk about. He feels like... a burden.

“Why are you so uncomfortable?” Luke asks gently. His hand is soft and warm as he tenderly lifts Michael’s face up so that he can look him in the eye.

“I feel like a burden,” Michael admits, voice a mere mumble. “I don’t like that you have to take all this time just so that I can… can.. be a person.” He doesn’t look at Luke. Luke doesn’t make him anymore.

“You aren’t a burden,” Luke assures him, voice strong again. “You _will_ never be a burden. Okay?” Michael nods, feeling a little teary-eyed. “And…” Michael looks up into his blue eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” His voice is cautious again. “But… you don’t have to feel bad for feeling better, okay? I know… both times you’ve had, like, a relapse, but feeling better is good. That’s why I come help, so that you can feel better. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

A tear slides down Michael’s cheek. “Okay,” He croaks, voice barely coming out. He loves Luke. His friend rubs at his shoulder.

“Sorry for making you cry,” He chuckles, leaning in close again so that Michael can’t see his face. Michael pushes his nose into Luke’s neck, feeling safe and hidden there. They are quiet and comfortable.

Luke kisses the crown of his head. “So there’s nothing? That I can do better, I mean?”

“No,” Michael kisses his collarbone in return. And then he feels guilty, remembering last time. Luke seems to sense his apprehension.

“What?” He asks, not accusatory or demanding in the slightest.

“The, the first time, last week?” Luke hums to show he’s following. “You, um, moved me. And I didn’t… it felt weird. It made me feel back to normal faster, I think, but I didn’t… I didn’t like it. I know I should have, if it helped, but it feels better when I move on my own, I think?” Michael uttered, realizing how stupid it sounds as he says it. He pulls away from Luke, picking at his nails. “Um,” He says.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Luke smiles and leans closer to Michael again. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” A quiet moment passes, and Michael _really_ loves Luke. “I won’t move you, if it happens again.”

“Okay,” Michael replies. He thinks maybe he should be ashamed or feel small and stupid but. He doesn’t. He feels very content. Loved.


	3. Say a Prayer for the Broken Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke knew what to do when he got like this, now. Slowly get him to move, get him doing something he loves, and talk to him. It usually worked within an hour or two. But only Luke could really do it; Michael loved Calum and Ashton, but they couldn’t really handle his anxiety.
> 
> Or, Michael breaks down around Calum and Ashton. Luke helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop almost forgot to post this!! lmao i promise it's good? i like this idea a lot, it was the second chapter i wrote and surprise i was still depressed when i wrote it so idk what i'm trying to say but. please enjoy
> 
> idk if this really feels like an end to the fic but i don't have anymore ideas so i suppose it is? if anyone wants more. feel free to tell me
> 
> and one more time, i will stress that this is just how my anxiety is for me (when it's really bad) i really don't know if other people experience it anything like this

Michael curled in closer on himself, biting his lip as he felt that _feeling_ creep in.

Luke knew what to do when he got like this, now. Slowly get him to move, get him doing something he loves, and talk to him. It usually worked within an hour or two. But only Luke could really do it; Michael loved Calum and Ashton, but they couldn’t really handle his anxiety.

“Come on, come on!” Calum yelled from beside him on the couch, laughing and knocking knees with Ashton as they played FIFA together. 

He didn’t like the rock in his chest. He wanted it to go away, he wanted to be alone, he wanted to move, but that’s never how it worked out, was it? He felt his lip wobble, a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn’t feel good.

“Damn it!” Calum said, not really upset even though he was pretending to be irked by his loss. “Good one, Ash. Pounded me into a pulp.”

Michael turned his head into his shoulder, away from Cal and Ash, trying to stave this off. He’s trying to relax and have fun with his friends. He didn’t want this right now.

“Michael, want to play Ash?”

Michael rested his cheek against his knee now, not looking at Calum. He didn’t want him to see that he’s upset. Didn’t want to be the weirdo loser who always got like _this_. The feeling in his chest grew larger. He didn’t feel good.

“Michael?” Ashton’s voice rang out in the quiet room.

He closed his eyes to hold back tears.

A hand reached out and touched his shoulder. A tear slipped down his cheek. He pushed his face harder against his knee like that would help somehow. His hand curled into a fist around his ankle, his nails digging into the skin. It hurt, but it hurt good and it gave him something to focus on. Somewhere, he was dully scared that the action helped.

“What’s wrong?” Calum asked, rubbing his hand against Michael’s shoulder. He tried to pull him so he could see his face. Michael tried to hide the way he took in a shaking breath, steeling his muscles so that he wouldn’t move. The hand pulled away from him. It made him feel better and worse at the same time. Another tear pushed out of his eye, running hot down the same track that the other had made. It dripped from his chin and onto his jeans. He dug his nails in deeper in his ankle.

“Where’s Luke?” Ashton asked.

“Um, in his room?” Calum replied, unsure. “Luke!” He yelled, so loud it hurt Michael’s ears a little. Another tear ran down his cheek. The awful feeling seemed to grow with every breath out, his lip shaking uncontrollably now as tears fell down his face and his breaths came shakier and shakier. He didn’t feel good. “Luke!”

“Yeah?” Came the quiet reply from a ways away. Michael detached his hand from his ankle, noting the deep red grooves they left, and wiped feebly at his face.

“Come here, something’s wrong with Michael.”

_Something’s wrong with Michael_. His face scrunched up in pain. Three tears, in quick succession, fell down his face and met with the other on his jeans. Something’s wrong with him, when isn’t there something wrong with him. He was always a problem, a burden. Always hurting himself on stage or forgetting his passport or being stupid and worthless in some other away. A sob slipped out of his throat, unstoppable. He could feel Calum and Ashton’s discomfort. A burden.

Footsteps came quick down the hall and into the living room, barely a few seconds later.

“Where?” Came the urgent, but still gentle, voice. Michael tried to relax himself. Another sob came out.

“Here,” Calum said. “On the couch.”

And then Luke was there, crouched down and barely visible over Michael’s knee but nonetheless a soft and calming presence to Michael by now. He caught Luke’s smile by the crinkle next to his eyes. “Hey,” He said, voice soft. He reached a hand out onto Michael’s shin. “Can I touch you?” Michael couldn’t move. “Okay,” Luke said, taking his hand away. Michael didn’t know how to feel. Another tear fell down his cheek. He was useless. “Do you want to stay here?” Michael still couldn’t speak. He felt terrible for not answering Luke, why didn’t he answer Luke? Why wouldn’t he speak?

“I’m going to pick you up, alright? I hope that’s okay,” Luke said, his voice still just as calm and gentle. Understanding. Michael hid his face against his leg so that Luke wouldn’t see the way his face contorted. More tears. He didn’t… He didn’t feel good. Luke knew. “I’m sorry for moving you,” Luke whispered once he was closer, just for Michael to hear. “I know you’ll be more comfortable in private, though. I love you. You’re okay.” Michael’s lip wobbled again, stronger this time.

Luke slid a hand under Michael’s bent knees and the other under his arm and across his back. He lifted Michael with just a little bit of a struggle and tucked him into his warm chest. Michael’s head fell against Luke’s neck. His tshirt, grey, quickly became damp with tears. It made Michael cry harder. He ruined Luke’s shirt.

The living room stayed silent after they left. Michael had fucked up Calum and Ashton’s afternoon, probably.

Luke pet down Michael’s back when he started sobbing again, turning to enter his own room. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” Luke said, his voice a soothing rumble. Michael tried to calm his erratic breathing with little success. “Shh,” Luke hushed him, like he could tell that Michael was straining himself. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” And then he was set gently down on Luke’s bed and Luke was in next to him before he could begin to feel cold.

“I’m turning on Mean Girls,” Luke said, pressing a little kiss to Michael’s temple. Michael curled into Luke’s side. Luke wrapped one arm around Michael and pulled his laptop onto his legs with another. “Hope that’s okay. I know you think it’s annoying that I like it so much. But I like it. And I think you like it too, even if you complain.”

Michael did like it. He felt the rise and fall of Luke’s chest against his own. Gradually, his own breaths started to match Luke’s calm ones. The tears were drying on his face now. He felt guilty that he’d started to calm down so quickly. He was probably faking it. Another wave of that _feeling_ hit him. He didn’t feel good.

“I love you,” Luke said quietly, rubbing Michael’s shoulder. Mean Girls was starting. The familiar sound of it drew Michael in. “You’re a good cuddler. And a good friend.” Luke pressed his face to the crown of Michael’s head. “I love you,” Luke said again, like he couldn’t stop thinking it.

_Love you too_ , Michael thought, moving his hand to rest on Luke’s stomach in a jerky movement. His muscles didn’t quite want to work. Luke kissed his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading feel free to leave comments to tell me how you feel and you can reach me at softnerdypeter.tumblr.com :)


End file.
